Peas and Chocolate
by protectthesandwich
Summary: You're seven years old and you realise something. It's not a good idea to stuff peas in your mouth along with the chocolate pudding you were promised. It doesn't taste good, no matter what Dean might tell you. A one-shot consisting of moments from Sam's childhood. Pre-series.


**Disclaimer: I don't own supernatural.**

* * *

You're seven years old and you realise something. It's not a good idea to stuff peas in your mouth along with the chocolate pudding you were promised. It doesn't taste good, no matter what Dean might tell you.

Your ears go scarlet because he's giggling, and you try to clamp down on the overflowing mousse. Dad shouts, tells you both to act your age. And as you swallow and as he looks down at the table, Dean sees you wiping a stray pea from the corner of your mouth and smirks.

Just a little bit.

To let you know that he would convince you again, no matter how Dad might react.

* * *

You're nine, and school's finished and you can't find Dean no matter how hard you look.

There's a threat, and he's tall and ginger and in the middle of a gaggle of boys. The ginger takes one look at you and smiles like a shark. Like he can't believe how you managed to last this long in life.

You try to walk past but you know that you're not going to get anywhere, and he shoves you back. Back where you're small and insignificant. He opens his mouth, his cruel smile dancing on his face.

Out of nowhere is this blur. Dean's here. Finally. Relief washes over you as you watch the ginger fall to the side. Your brother grabs your arm and tugs. This is how you managed to get so far in life. Nothing will ever be able to touch you. Dean won't let it.

* * *

You're eleven and it's your last assembly and you can hear the mutters of the parents sitting at the back. You can hear the clicking of camera's, the murmurings of pride for each child that is called up.

You're near the end and fidgeting, you can't help twisting around every so often even though you know what you'll find there. Dad didn't come, and you didn't expect him too, but still. It hurts, although you know it shouldn't, not anymore, not after years of the same.

Finally your name is called and you just want to get up there and back again as quickly as possible. You can't help but scan the back one last time, for something, anything.

And there he is, of course. Slipping in at the last moment. You know he must have sprinted to get here in time because he's breathing heavily and his face is red but Dean still finds the energy to give you thumbs up and a smile.

You grin at him.

By the time you're filing out for the last time he's already gone.

* * *

You're thirteen and you're moving schools again.

It's dark, the night before the day you start. When everyone will judge you for coming in half way through the year, for being taller than average, for not speaking too much. And you shouldn't be nervous, because you swore to yourself that you wouldn't care this time.

Dean's blabbering at you although he should be memorising that exorcism. He's giving you advice and telling you to calm down and you know that he's just as nervous as you are. And somehow that does calm you down, because although you have no friends, and no hope, Dean always manages to make you feel like you're _his_ favourite person.

And that's all that matters. Maybe this time everything will work out he says, and you start to believe him.

* * *

You're fifteen and you snap at him. You've been angry at him before, but not recently. You've never been this hormonal, or this tired, or this sick of hunting.

He's trying to help you with your gun handling, not that you asked, and he's making you feel so stupid and you hate that feeling. You tell him to shut up if he's not going to start making sense, and although you meant it as a joke it comes out tight and angry, ringing in the sudden silence.

He pauses, takes a deep breath and apologises. You would tell him you're sorry too but you just want to forget it even happened.

He starts to go over it again, slower this time.

* * *

You're nineteen and standing outside Stanford.

Your things are all in boxes filling your new room.

He's disappointed because Dad hasn't shown up to forgive you, despite the fact we knew all along he wouldn't.

Dean's telling you that it won't change anything; that you'll talk all the time. And although you know he would never lie to you about this, you just can't believe him. He turns to go and it's too fast because he was supposed to protect you and you don't know how to survive on your own.

He hugs you one last time and leaves you.

And you're alone in your bare room and you cry.

Just a little bit.

And you know everything's going to be fine, even if nothing is the same.

* * *

**A/N:** I have a confession. I've only seen the first season of supernatural. I don't know why I then decided to write fan fiction about it. I'm also British and have no idea how the American school system, food or spellings work. Please let me know if something is glaringly wrong. This is my first fan fiction, so of you like it, hate it, think they're wildly out of character, and I'm missing something vital from not having watched the next 8 seasons (probably), if you think I could improve if... Let me know in the reviews.

Oh, and about the weird tense, it just kind of came out like this, 'you' is meant to be Sam, if you hadn't guessed. I also have an odd love for the word and.


End file.
